


pog noises

by ViviCatLover



Series: DSMP Bande AU [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Crack Treated Seriously, Dream SMP Band AU, Gen, Ghosts (?), Hallucinations (?), I'm just fuckin goin wild in these tags huh, Jschlatt trusts techno with his life, Looney Toons, The Author Regrets Everything, and nothing, but do i care?, canon can suck my dick, chat got on techno's last nerve lmao, couldn't fuckin do a title for the longest time so I just settled on That, eventually techno's gonna snap jschlatt's spine in half and no one will blame him, for a slob schlatt cares about his clothing too much, fuck everything this was so hard to write, he just refuses to say it, i swear this is a band au this is all just set up, in this house dream's techno's forgotten rival, it's a rental, just: fuck, liminal spaces, my writing is all over the place, nearly had techno intimidatingly threaten to crush a doll head under his boot but it broke the tone, no, schlatt gets fireman carried half the chapter and it's so good, schlatt: I'm here too what the fuck, should've put that first, suggest some additional tags and maybe I'll add them idk, tbh so is schlatt but in a different way, techno @ chat: fucc u, techno @ chat: schlatt asked so i'll give in to ur demands but ur on thin fucking ice, techno and schlatt are qpps and their relationship is the definition of Salt Mates, techno is a dramatic bitch, techno is batman schlatt is fuckin, techno: oh sorry, the original was worse if you don't believe me, this whole au is crack treated seriously i stg, uhhh, unbeta'd but I refuse to die, what type of building do they live in? fuck you I'm not specifying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViviCatLover/pseuds/ViviCatLover
Summary: “You’re an asshole, I hate this, watch the ceiling,” Schlatt whines, and Techno ducks down obligingly.“Don’t be a baby,” Techno scolds, crouch-walking in a mysterious tunnel with no visible end, roommate over one shoulder.
Relationships: Jschlatt & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Schlatt/not getting his suit dirty, Technoblade/Sleep, except maybe chat/being creepy, none I'm not fuckign nasty
Series: DSMP Bande AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102193
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	pog noises

Schlatt flips on the light, and oh look at that, it's Techno, sitting ominously in a chair.

In the dark.

Absolute drama queen, Schlatt scoffs, disregarding that he actually got scared, for like, a second.

"Schlatt," Techno drawls, leaning forwards on his knees. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Schlatt asks, and his keys nearly drop through his fingers with how suddenly sweaty they are. When he finally stops making a fool of himself and puts away all his things, Techno deigns to continue.

"The neighbors, Schlatt."

"What neighbors?"

"The neighbors up at all hours??"

"We don't have? Neighbors?"

"You're fucking joking with me, right? 'Don't have neighbors,' don't play _dumb_."

"Dude, I'm not, we don't have neighbors. No one else has been living in these rooms, in like three years. Wait. Why are you giving me that look."

Techno pinches the bridge of his nose. "Because apparently, we got a problem. Either there're squatters only I can hear, or I've gone nuts. At this point, I don't know which is more likely."

“There’s a third possibility,” Schlatt says instantly.

He presses the answering machine, and he later swears, it was honestly just for the joke.

It spits out static, a dial tone, and various mutterings from various sources. Their one commonality? Violence. 

Schlatt stares at it. 

“Ghosts. Ghosts, apparently, is our third option.”

Techno slumps off the chair and onto the floor. “I refuse.”

“C’mon, man! Let’s go spelunking! Don’t you wanna lay these poor, poor souls to rest?” Schlatt gestures to the answering machine, and it spits out more threats, right on cue. 

“It’s none of our business,” Techno wails to an uncaring god.

“We’re _living_ here! If not our business, who’s?”

“What are you, a ghost hunter?”  
  


“What are you, a coward?!”

Techno sits ram-rod straight. “Get outta here,” He starts standing up, “You think you can just **say** that-”

Schlatt denies making a shrieking noise as he runs away.

“-Without CONSEQUENCES?!” Techno roars, chasing after him. 

* * *

_(Pog, you’re getting closer, bitchass,)_ Techno hears someone hiss in the middle distance, and he honestly wants to die, just so he can strangle whoever said that. It would be worth it, he thinks, as Schlatt struggles to escape. 

He allows himself to close his eyes and savor that possibility for at least ten seconds, before he lets Schlatt get back up. _(Technohurt)_

“What the hell, man!” Schlatt hisses, brushing at his clothes, “This is brand new, and you got dust on it!”

Techno swats his shoulder without looking, ignores Schlatt’s squawking, and eyes their surroundings. _(pog technobserve)_

He miiight not have been paying them the attention he should have been until _after_ he’d managed to catch his wayward roommate. _(Technoblivious,_ a far voice mocks. _)_

Unfortunate. 

Good news: the hallway looked at least mildly familiar.

Bad news: Techno couldn’t be sure he actually knew where they were, and all the hallways in the building were identical.

“Fuuuuck,” Techno groans. “You dumbass, you got us lost.”

_(Technolost??)_

“ _I_ got _us_ lost?!” Schlatt responds to the accusation as he does everything: loudly. “ _I_ GOT US LOST?! IF YOU COULD JUST TAKE A JOKE-”

Techno tunes out his ranting and looks for some sort of landmark. Reference point. Whatever. He looks for one. 

He spots a familiar-looking scuff in the dust, and starts walking.

( _Technocompass pog?)_

Schlatt scrambles to follow, and Techno can practically _feel_ the guy pouting at his back. 

Techno gets led into a room, and he continues to follow the trail, vaulting dusty furniture as he goes. 

Techno looks back to make sure Schlatt’s following. ( _Technoparkour)_

He’s just standing in the doorway. 

Techno sighs, and starts maneuvering back towards him.

“Nuh uh,” Schlatt instantly says once Techno’s back in range. “You can’t make me. This is a new suit! I’m not going _anywhere_ nasty while I’m in it. I refuse.”

Schlatt dodges the responding grab, and Techno rolls his eyes. “It’s already ruined,” He pointed out. “It’s not like it can get any worse.”

Schlatt squawks. “You jinxed me! Now something worse _will_ happen to it!”

Techno rolls his eyes harder. “Jinxing isn’t real.”

“Yeah, uh, well! That’s what I thought about ghosts! I’m not takin’ _any_ fuckin’ chances!” 

“Just get over here.” 

  
“Make me!”

“Maybe I will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Schlatt splutters.

“C’mon, man, you know,” Techno replies, leaning forwards.

“Don’t you dare,” Schlatt’s protests fell on deaf ears. Techno had already lunged.

The scuffle eats up another ten minutes, and in the end, it is Techno who stands victorious. ( _eyyyy he won, nice)_

“You fuckin’ ASSHOLE!” Schlatt howls, squirming in open air. The only thing keeping his fancily dressed ass from getting dumped on the floor is Techno’s patience, already worn quite thin, and a grip on his suit jacket. “Let me go!”

“Nah.” Techno replies, hoisting Schlatt into a fireman’s carry. “Gotta get out, first.”

He heads back over the pile of discarded furniture bits and taps the thirty-second tile from the wall with the tip of his boot. It makes a ‘thunk’ing noise. ( _Hollow pog)_

Schlatt feels him lean down to pry it up and tries to turn to see what he’s looking at, but Techno doesn’t let him move an inch from his shoulder. “Just stay still, I’ll wash it when we get home,” Techno grumbles, maneuvering himself and Schlatt through the hole in the floor.

“I just want it on record I don’T LIKE THIS-” Techno drops ten inches max, and Schlatt’s scream cuts off in a _whumph_ of lost air. 

The dust in here’s so thick that Techno thinks he could carbon-date his own lungs just by breathing the air.

He presses on, Schlatt’s whining following him every step of the way.  
  


“Where are we going?” Schlatt finally thinks to ask between complaints.

  
“I have no idea.” Techno replies, clearing away cobwebs with a hand.

Schlatt manages to flail without moving a muscle, somehow. “Whaddya mean, you have no idea?! You put me through all this shit, and you don’t even know where you’re going?!” 

“Yu-p.” Techno pops the P, wiping his hand on one of Schlatt’s besuited legs.

“You’re an asshole, I hate this, watch the ceiling,” Schlatt whines, and Techno ducks down obligingly. 

“Don’t be a baby,” Techno scolds, crouch-walking in a mysterious tunnel with no visible end, roommate over one shoulder. “This should be the right way, anyhow, unless your 'ghosts' can control the building layout.”

“I hate you for putting that into my head. Makes me wonder how you know this place better than me, when _I’m_ the one who’s lived here longer, fuckin’ witchcraft..” Schlatt moans in despair.

“I’m flattered.” Techno responds cheekily.

“You shouldn’t fuckin’ be.”

“But I am.” Techno smirks, deft fingers gently pressing at a section of wall until it gives way with a grinding noise. ( _Technopuzzle)_ Techno grunts, squeezes them through the resulting space, and stands up. _(pog, pog, they’re here, quick we gotta-)_

Bad news: they haven’t emerged at the location they should have. Instead, they’re in a space so big that Techno honestly can’t believe it fits in the building. Maybe they’re under it?

Worse news: the voices are getting hella loud. 

Worst news: There’s a rotating, floating nebulae of junk taking up the center of the room, presided over by a stringed-up set of baby doll heads. 

Techno’s getting some _serious_ IT vibes from the whole set-up, not gonna lie. 

Judging by how Schlatt’s gone deathly silent, he feels the same.

Or he’s following Techno’s lead, but Schlatt would never do that willingly, so Techno discards that train of thought.

Techno can’t climb the monstrosity and hold Schlatt at the same time, he’s not God, so he lets Schlatt off his shoulder.

He just kinda sits on the floor, staring at the abstract sculpture in front of them, blinking at regular intervals.

Techno… honestly can’t blame him, this whole thing is wack as fuck. 

So, of course, Techno tries to poke it in response.

First, he needs gloves. Second, he needs to get to said “it”. So, Techno accomplishes both.

Five reasons in favor of him getting a tetanus shot later, he’s crouched on a weird amalgamation of a couch and a fridge, scavenged gloves in hand.

He pulls them on, clambers a few more feet in the doll heads’ direction, and rips that shit out of their oblong orbits.

The voices shriek, in excitement or protest at being taken from their place, Techno can’t tell.

After a pause, the trash galaxy starts to fall.

Techno crushes one of the rubber heads in his fist during the descent, far more preoccupied with not getting crushed by falling debris, himself.

When the room stops shaking, Techno climbs down to Schlatt, and throws the necklace of baby doll heads at his feet.

“There,” He starts peeling off the gloves while Schlatt stares in horror. “Problem solved.”

Schlatt shakes his head. “Every time I think my life can’t get weirder, the universe conspires to prove me wrong, I swear to God…” 

Schlatt points numbly at a section of the trashed garbage pile. “I think I saw my old recorder over there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Techno waves a hand at him and meets one of the doll heads’ lifeless, dark eyes. 

Techno knew rubber couldn’t emote, but he imagined it glaring at him anyways.

“Look, asshole/s,” Techno spat. “You’ve been waking me up in the middle of the night for months asking me to go somewhere. It’s a problem. I assume this,” He gestures to the room, “Is where you wanted me to go.” 

( _yes, pog, thank you, ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AT LAST POG IN CHAT)_

“Well, I’m fuckin’ here, and I’ve dragged my roommate with me,” Schlatt ‘aww’s sarcastically in the background. “Now leave me alone.”

( _can’t won’t wanna come)_

Techno snorts. “Not fucking likely.”

“I never expected only hearing half of a conversation to be this weird,” Schlatt muses to himself, folding his arms. “Just agree to whatever they ask, we’re stuck here otherwise.”

Techno huffs. “I could get us out if I wanted to.”

  
Schlatt raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“ _Fine,_ ” Techno snarls, picking up the string with pinched fingers, his vision blurring at the edges. “Fine. Let’s take the haunted fucking doll heads back with us,” ( _schlatt pog!!)_ “ _That’ll end well_ .”  
  
Techno ducks back through the entrance without waiting for Schlatt.

“Glad you agree.” Schlatt drawls, falling into step with Techno as the tunnel around them starts to blur in a distinctly non-euclidian manner. When it resolves, it appears unchanged. 

They return to the tile they entered from, and Techno juggles the doll heads impatiently as he wiggles it open.

He throws the heads up first, hauls himself next, and turns back to the hole to help Schlatt out of it.

“Hate that,” Schlatt hissed, practically clinging to Techno’s arm.

They’re outside the apartment.

Techno looks at Schlatt, looks at his clothes, and sighs. 

He’d have to clean for a week to make sure no weird eldritch dust had clung to anything.

Techno hands the doll heads to Schlatt, fixes the tile, and starts immediately.

Techno emerges from the cleaning frenzy an hour or more later.

Schlatt had gotten his hands on some tacks, and strung up the doll heads in a corner of the apartment.

Techno tentatively approved.

Techno roasts him later for not just putting the doll heads somewhere to be forgotten, instead, but for now, he approved.

**Author's Note:**

> the original titles were:  
> "The Mystery of The Terrible Fucking Title"  
> and  
> "Voicemail From Hell (Literally)".  
> Bros they were so bad.  
> Comment down below n give us a kudo. the writing group for this au has so much stuff squirreled away. it's insane. there's a draft for ranboo arguing with chat during a house party while wilbur drinks with schlatt. Dream SMP is literally Hamilton in this au and Phil's the one who's name it gets published over. or maybe it's dream who publishes it. just a whole bucket of delighted "what the fuck".  
> Anyways, yeah. you can find me on the wormhole discord for the tlgo fic. and the others are there too I guess. but anyways I'm a fuckin clown and proud for writing this. rambling in the author notes noises. peace.


End file.
